


The Path I Chose

by Li_no



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro-centric, M/M, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, normally i write fluff but this is just goro akechi has issues the fic, theyre chatting in the jazz club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Li_no/pseuds/Li_no
Summary: "That struck a thought within Akechi’s mind. It made him wonder if the cause of such sameness was as simple as he imagined: the owner and the couple, they were already living their wishes from the get-go, without regrets or mistakes bringing them down."Or, Goro Akechi has a complicated relationship with the word "regret", and wonders if his life could have been different, despite it all.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	The Path I Chose

It was one of the many nights he had spent at Kichioji’s jazz club. Despite the otherworldly predicament he had found himself in, the place still provided Akechi respite. It gave him much relief in knowing that this place had survived Maruki’s self-righteous reality. The owner would greet him by the entrance, then bring him the same soft drinks. The singer remained unchanged as the music he liked filled the place with its calming melodies. As he glanced at the table near his, Akechi noticed even the same obnoxious couple that had spent so many nights there was also present, with the same terribly saccharine behavior as when they had regrettably crossed paths in the past.

That struck a thought within Akechi’s mind. It made him wonder if the cause of such sameness was as simple as he imagined: the staff and the couple, they were already living their wishes from the get-go, without regrets or mistakes bringing them down. Perhaps, the owner’s wishes consisted of having a decently well off establishment, a place with live music for everyone to appreciate and feel at ease in. The couple’s wish, no doubt, could have been finding their other half, which they obviously already had, considering their nauseating displays that had started taken place much before Maruki’s reality, to Akechi’s chagrin.

Although, that was nothing but a delusion, a passing thought worth no time deliberating. Certainly, the couple and the owner alike had had many things in their private lives changed by Maruki, arguably for the better. But, in the off-chance his deductions were more than a mere daydream and some people had indeed managed to reach their happiness entirely by their own sweat and tears, he couldn’t help but admire, in spite of himself, the strength of these individuals who had managed to grasp such fulfillment.

However, it was foolish to ponder what ifs that had no bearing in reality, that was a fact engraved deeply inside Akechi’s heart. Yet, recently, he caught himself wondering about a future in which he had chosen another path in life. A more forgiving one, perhaps. Akechi condemned such useless fantasies every time they dared show, as they were so very unlike himself. With time, he came to realize that was just the start of the string of “very unlike himself” things he would come to think or do, and was as helpless against them as he was helpless against the culprit behind this series of abnormalities.

Akira sat across Akechi at the table closest to the singer, their usual spot every time the club was having a special performance. Despite their impending deadline and everything that had happened between them, Akira invited him to the jazz club exactly like all these months before. These invites possessed a sameness that, unlike the relief the jazz club brought, covered him in a sense of foreboding and doubt. Every time Akechi received a text from Akira, he would raise one of his eyebrows and, “very unlike himself”, reluctantly accept. They would usually not talk about the specifics of what had transpired months prior, and Akira remained mysteriously unfazed about Akechi’s drastic change in attitude. He even seemed to welcome it fully, which only confused Akechi further. Akira would never ask what caused such a change, and so Akechi would never have the need to reply, that was the way their relationship worked: they studied and analyzed each other, arrived at the answers themselves and had nothing but trust in their observations to assure them that they had figured out the solution.

While sitting on the chair in front of Akechi’s and stretching in a theatrically exaggerated manner, Akira said, “This place really never gets old,” his voice came out wobbly, half a statement and half a yawn. He put back both hands inside his pockets, the drink in front of him still remained untouched. Akira smiled as he looked at Akechi, “I could come here every day. I don’t know how it always gets me to feel so relaxed.”

As if he did not know any other truthful way to, Akechi fleshed a smile that was much closer to a high and mighty smirk, “It is a very comforting place, yes. Despite the urgency of our situation, it feels good to be able to come here again.” Akechi held his drink with his left hand and took a sip, momentarily closing his eyelids to better feel the taste and the music.

Akira played with his own bangs slightly, a habit Akechi still thought was the tiniest bit endearing. Then, he looked at Akechi in the eye with a sad little smile and a softness in the eyes that Akechi hoped he was imagining and said, “It won’t be the same coming here without you. After this is all over.”

Arching an eyebrow, he bit back a cynical smirk, “How so? You have plenty of friends to come here with. I imagine you already introduced this place to them.”

Taking his other hand out of his pocket, Akira scratched the back of his head. He didn’t really look at Akechi, but focused his attention on the singer’s performance, “I don’t really bring other people here. It feels a little weird if it’s not you.”

At the mention of such possibilities, Akechi’s pulse quickened and his grip on the drink tightened, “That’s… very idiotic, but I won’t question your reasons.”

Akira laughed and smiled, putting his hand in his pocket once more, “That’s why we should come here again when you’ve finished your sentence. Even if we’re old men by then. How about it?”

Akechi held his drink so tight he was impressed the cup didn’t shatter by then. Now, that had struck a nerve indeed. He felt an incredible urge to punch Akira right in the face, but the sense of inadequacy that had been accompanying him in each and every meeting was much stronger. It was pathetic and infuriating that this was even a problem _,_ only because Akira’s head had to be so messed up he dared even slightly _care_ about the guy who almost put a hole clean on the middle of his head. Even acknowledging this fact made his stomach churn and his face scrunch up.

“We don’t have time to waste fantasizing about trivialities like that. Focus on the task at hand, Akira.” He brought the drink to his lips once more, in a likely attempt to put an end to the topic before it reached clearly off limits territory. It would not be pretty to tell Akira that he was, most likely, discussing the future with a dead man.

Looking right in his eyes, Akira hummed and tapped his fingers on the table. He was grinning as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world, “So. Why do you accept my invites? Isn’t that a _triviality?”_

Akechi slammed the cup he was holding on the table with unnecessary force, resulting in a tad loud noise and some stares from the other customers, including the annoying couple. Now, that had struck an even bigger nerve. He scoffed, “Stop talking.”

Seemingly pleased at the points he had just scored, Akira smiled playfully and muttered a _sorry_ he surely did not mean. Before bringing his drink to his lips for the first time that night, he held the drink right in front of his mouth, with a more serious expression in his eyes, “There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” 

Akechi crossed his arms and squinted his eyes. He looked straight at Akira, “What is it?”

After gulping a good chunk of the drink and placing the cup on the table, Akira looked fixedly at it as he circled the edges of the cup with his finger. Offhandedly, he said, “Do you regret it? The things you did, I mean,”

What a way to bring up the topic they have been dancing around ever since their partnership had been formed. Akechi felt an extraordinary urge to laugh, get up and leave. That was very like Akira: blunt, direct, and out of nowhere. “I don’t,” He said curtly, “I certainly don’t have any regrets. Did you expected something different, perhaps less scathing?” He smirked cynically and stared at Akira with such intensity in his eyes it almost seemed like yet another challenge to a duel, “Maybe a bouquet with a tidy, cute apology card saying ‘sorry I tried to kill you multiple times’?”

Akira seemed to be having a hard time deciding on how to react. His mouth opened and closed several times, as he seemed to struggle finding the words, which greatly amused Akechi. He took incredible satisfaction in taking those kinds of expressions from Akira, someone so well guarded and whose feelings only varied between none, mild and smug. 

As Akechi took another sip of his drink, feeling very much victorious in this game, Akira laughed and said, “That’s really like you. I don’t know what else I expected.”

So much for enjoying a win. Akechi frowned and looked at Akira pointedly. He expected disapproving looks and a disgusted Akira running off immediately, and whatever positive illusion he could have possibly had about Akechi’s skewed morality not being _that_ bad running off alongside him. “That wasn’t a joke, Akira. I have no regrets about who I am today. I’m being serious.” 

Akira hummed and tapped his fingers on the table twice, unfazed and smirking as if it simply didn’t concern his life at all, “I don’t doubt you are, I just think that what you said is vague enough that I get to pick and choose what I want from it.” He winked at Akechi, likely feeling very smug about himself, as he tended to, “I still like you. A lot. Just don’t almost shoot me again, that wasn’t very fun.”

“Tch,” His face scrunched up once more, Akechi closed his eyes and massaged his temples in an attempt to quell his confusion. “You’re messed up,” he said finally, with more wonder than poison in his voice. Akechi’s mind felt hazy, he barely knew how to react. This wasn’t good. Akira has always been a mystery to him, the moment Akechi would think he had Akira figured out, he’d stomp all over the patterns and turn the game on its head, leaving Akechi stuck several moves prior.

Akira put his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand, looking at Akechi. “My offer still stands. When all of this is over, let’s come back here one day. Even if we’re old men.” 

“Whatever you say.” Akechi laughed bitterly as he thought about the utter nonsense of it all. Akira could never go through the easy route. Akira could _never_ follow simple lines of thought. No, he simply had to make everything more difficult. For both of them.

As Akira got up from his chair to leave, he approached Akechi nonchalantly and kissed his cheek as if it was a completely natural thing to do. Akechi flinched at the contact and immediately cursed himself under his breath for not having been able to hide it. “See you tomorrow, Goro.” And just like that, he walked away from the club with no more words said.

Ridiculous. Foolish. Akechi grit his teeth and clenched his fists with such force he could hear the noise the fabric of his gloves made in contact. He didn’t want to think about what he felt, nor acknowledge the beating of his heart so loud and intense it threatened to jump out of his ribcage. None of this was going anywhere significant, and he had been a fool for indulging Akira for so long. What was done was done and over with. The past was set in stone and immutable, Akechi had no interest in entertaining possibilities that didn’t come to be, and never would.

Akechi did not regret his actions. Akechi did not lament this path. He had no issues with the person he had become today. Far from it, he was rather proud. With effort alone, he had powered through a reality rigged against him from the start and had found ways to survive, wicked as they may be, the fate set in stone for him since the time of his birth was no less wicked, he was simply cheating back.

Before he walked to the entrance to leave, Akechi glanced at the jazz club’s staff, as chipper and fulfilled as they ever were, and at the nauseatingly happy couple next table still exchanging the same little giggles and pleasantries as they had since he first stepped into the place this night.

In spite of himself, he thought about what a life with Akira would have been like: having someone you loved and who loved you back, a place to call home where you would always be welcome in. He wondered if he would have been a happier man then.

It was all too foolish. Too much to bear. And so, he shook his head and looked away.

Goro Akechi did not regret his decisions, and if he were to go back in time, he would, with utmost certainty, do the exact same things, all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you at least enjoyed it a little, and i apologize if akira seemed somewhat off, i still havent decided on the way i want to write him
> 
> twitter: @heartfvlcry


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